


Unlabeled Chex Mix

by shuilian



Series: Mix Fix [2]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Eliot puts something surprising in his mouth, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Hardison puts something surprising on his body, Misunderstandings, Multi, POV Alec Hardison, Parker Being Parker (Leverage), Post-Season/Series 04, Pre-OT3, minor cringe, silliness, waves hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23176585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuilian/pseuds/shuilian
Summary: Things go wrong for Hardison during movie night. Or do they?
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker, Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Series: Mix Fix [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666069
Comments: 13
Kudos: 83





	Unlabeled Chex Mix

Hardison puts on the heist film for movie night and pauses it. They've all seen the movie multiple times, so hopefully there'll be no need to spend the entire movie pointing out the inaccuracies. Usually Hardison enjoys the sparring, but right now he can't face hours of casual ribbing when all he can think about is what he and Parker had talked about.

Eliot's already sitting on the right side of the couch, so Hardison sits down on the left, leaving the spot in the middle for Parker, if she chooses. Sometimes she prefers to perch on the arm of the couch, sometimes draped across the back, sometimes even further away. Hardison never assumes. He doesn't trust himself to sit next to Eliot right now, though.

For once, they're not having popcorn. Parker's been talking about a surprise for two days and yesterday Eliot had been shouting something about the kitchen being a mess. Hardison just hopes it's the good kind of surprise, but you never could tell with Parker.

Hardison picks up his bottle of orange soda and unscrews the cap with sweaty hands. He can feel Eliot's eyes on him and hopes he's not picking up any weird vibes. Hardison tries to breathe normally and stop thinking about how aware he is of Eliot's presence at the moment. Ever since Parker had put the image in his head, he can't stop thinking about it.

Parker's somewhere behind them in the kitchen accompanied by rustling sounds. Something jingles into a bowl and then she's vaulting the couch behind Eliot. He grumbles a bit. Parker holds out the bowl towards him just as Hardison lifts the bottle of orange soda to his mouth.

"Chex mix!" she says brightly, shaking the bowl. "I made it myself!

Hardison sprays orange soda all over his arm and part of the coffee table.

"Damnit, Hardison!" Eliot yells, jerking back reflexively.

Hardison sets down the bottle of soda gingerly, jumps up, and crosses over to the sink to clean himself, trying to avoid Parker's shocked expression. He washes his arms and hands and then brings a rag over to wipe down the coffee table. He manages to complete the task despite his hands shaking, then returns the rag to the sink.

It's just a snack, he tells himself, not a metaphor. It doesn't mean anything. He's used to keeping his calm under pressure now; he can do this.

"This is what you messed up my kitchen for?" Eliot asks Parker, but he sounds more amused than annoyed.

Hardison's washing his hands again as he registers that Eliot had said, "my kitchen" and scrubs harder. After carefully drying his hands, he picks up a bottle of lotion on his way back to the couch. Parker's still perched on the right-hand arm next to Eliot. Eliot is openly staring at him. Hardison tells himself that Eliot can't read his mind.

"Since when did you learn how to clean?" Eliot says, maintaining eye contact while he takes a handful of Chex mix, actually puts it into his mouth despite how sweet it is, and chews.

"Seriously? I know how to clean. I'm just busy," Hardison says, looking away quickly from the twitch of Eliot's mouth. Hardison flips open the lid of the lotion just as Parker starts speaking again.

"So Hardison and I were talking about threesome -"

Three things happen at once: Hardison squeezes the bottle involuntarily and lotion spurts out of the bottle in a perfect white arc, falling onto his arm. He watches the lotion land like it's happening in slow motion and sees Eliot's eyes following the motion as both he and Eliot shout at once.

"Whoa! Hold up!"

"What the hell?"

Hardison knows what Parker's statement sounded like, but wants to remind Eliot that it's _Parker_ talking. The problem is that during the split second Hardison was reminding himself of that, he'd gotten that image in his mind again and now his brain is locked up like an operating system after a memory leak.

"Hardison, stop playin' around!" Eliot shouts. Then, even though it was nowhere near him, he runs his hands down his chest like he's checking for spills. 

Hardison tears his eyes away from the motion and wonders briefly if the man is trying to kill him.

"I'm not doing it on purpose!" Hardison grits, somehow finding the ability to speak. "Parker's talking about the clients."

He puts down the bottle of lotion next to the soda hastily and sets to rubbing the lotion in with wide, sweeping motions before anything else can go wrong. 

The clients they're helping were a man and two women. The way they'd arranged themselves during the interview seemed a bit more intimate than roommates or business partners.

"Oh, right," Eliot says. "You think that's what they're into?"

"Nah, man," Hardison says. "I don't know. I was just telling Parker that it could have been that."

"Yeah, you don't really know what someone likes until you ask," Parker says, like she's quoting something. She stands up and passes in front of Eliot to curl up on the couch between them.

Hardison closes his eyes briefly, which doesn't help when the same image flashes into his head again.

"Well, Parker," Eliot says slowly, "it's probably best to ask them so you avoid misunderstandin'. Usually people just read other people's body language, but with somethin' like that it's harder to be on the same page."

"So, are you straight?" she asks Eliot. "I'm not and Hardison isn't, either, but he doesn't like labels."

Hardison suddenly wants the couch to open up and swallow him. Parker's always been forthright, and while he's used to it by now, somehow he didn't want to have this conversation with Eliot. The man was in the _Army_. Hardison's suddenly glad that he's given up on holding any more objects.

"Uhh," Eliot says, glancing at them cautiously, "not sure why you're askin' but I don't like labels, either." 

"That means 'no,' doesn't it?" Parker asks confidently. Someone must have told her that.

"Why are we talkin' about me?" Eliot says gruffly, but he still doesn't sound angry. He's always so patient with Parker.

"I'm asking you what you like," Parker says, tossing another handful of Chex mix into her mouth.

Eliot growls. He crosses his arms. Hardison thinks that this isn't going well. It's exactly what he was afraid of happening. Eliot sits silently as the heist plays out on the screen.

"Yeah, it means 'no,'" he says so quietly that Hardison almost doesn't hear him.

Hardison lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware of what the sweet Chex Mix is called, but sorry I cannot.


End file.
